Saturday, April 8, 2017

Rape and the way of the world.

You were like a brother to me. And you knew it. I called you my brother for Christ's sake.

When I was molested by the preacher's kid and his friend as a kid... I wanted to tell. So bad. But I was to scared and ashamed.

Then the marine at the party.... when I was in my late teens. He didn't care to hear the word "no". I tried to gloss it over. But, it didn't work. I tried not to believe it. But which story was worse? What he did to me? Or the lie I told to try and believe it didn't happen? When I finally tried to tell the truth, he didn't believe me.

Then there was you, Billy. My "brother", whom I loved as such. You got drunk and smoked up that night. I drank. I drank way too much. I didn't do drugs and hated pot. I went to pass out in my friend's bed. A safe place. Remember? I know you do.

I remember you coming in and asking to lay down. I trusted you. How could you? I remember we talked some... but then I went to sleep/passed out. I remember waking up at one point, thinking you were touching me. But you got still. I thought it was just the booze messing with me and went back to sleep (passed back out). I hazily remember you pulling out from behind cursing me under your breath. Was that a bad dream?

No. No it wasn't a bad dream. I woke up... God only know when.... with my pants and panties missing. Sore.

You raped me. And you know it.

I screamed for help. Mike came to my rescue and found my pants and panties. Chris tried to get me to call the cops. I called the hospital instead. They wouldn't do a rape kit without calling the cops. In my drunken state I thought I couldn't do this to my mom. Her best friend's son..... Chris finally let me shower, gave me pain pill and let me cry until I passed out while he kept watch.

I refused to give you a ride home the next day. For the life of me I don't know why Mike gave you one. When I got there, I was done holding my tongue. Too many people in my life got away with hurting me. Not just the one's named here, but a few others for other reasons. I was done being a victim. I finally confessed to my mom, and yours. We lived together...all of us.

You had beaten me home. You got them first. You spun some kind of tale... I don't even know. But they said you said you I might come home and blame you something. And that you were too messed up. And so was I. I was literally told I may not be remembering things correctly. And that whatever happened...IF... anything did (if... are you kidding me).... it had to be my fault for drinking too. They actually accused me of smoking up! WTF! Everyone knew that wasn't my thing. It was the reason Lonnie and I failed.

Tell me this.... if you didn't do a damn thing wrong, why did you feel the need to go home and tell everyone something happened, but it wasn't your fault? And why the fuck didn't anyone put that together?

You know what you did. You know you raped me. I was drunk. I was passed out. And you didn't care.

You fucked up my life. You were not some dumb kid. You weren't a stranger. You were my brother. You lived in my home for a few years at this point. Our moms were best friends. How could you?

I forgave the preacher's son. I have mostly forgave the marine ... the brother of a friend of a friend. I mostly forgave my stalker who stole my car and my cat and threatened to rape to me and physically assaulted me and bullied me at school. I have forgiven many people in my life... but you? You I can't forgive. And I don't want too. I trusted you. I loved you like family. How could you?

I tried to tell my story....and I wasn't believed. I told my mom, yours (she lived with us and was there, but you got to them first didn't you?), and even my on and off again boyfriend. I told him you hurt me. You hurt me bad. I cried each time I tried to tell my story. It such a hard thing to admit too and tell. No one believed me.

Congratulations. You won. Everyone wanted to believe you. No one believed me. Not one fucking person. Except maybe Chris and Mike. Mike being questionable...even though he was the one to find me in tears, screaming for help, and had to find my missing clothes. The clothes I went to bed wearing and woke up missing.

The world... those I loved... wanted to believe you over me. And the some still do. Some still keep in touch with you. But you and me? We know different, don't we Billy Ray? And deep down... so do some of them.

I understand why people don't come forward. I tried, and no one believed me. In my experience... I wouldn't advise any victim to ever come forward. Ever. Because if those who love you most don't believe you, who will?

You ruined my life. I trust no one. I can't watch certain movies or scenes because of you. It brings back flash backs of spotty memory and pain. I wake up from nightmares...even to this day. I am scared to death for my 3 girls. I try to warn them never to trust anyone...they think I am crazy.

You got the people I love to believe you over me, because you got them first. And they never stopped to ask why that was. My relationship with my mom and sisters is forever changed because of you. You ruin lives, Billy. That's what you do.

Am I crazy, Billy? Am I? The world was outraged at the guy who raped the passed out girl behind the dumpster. Are you any better? For raping a passed out girl in the bed next to you? How come the world hates him, but loves you? Wish I had some Swedish people to have saved me that night.

You are a fucking rapest. Period. The end. You know it. I know it. I no longer need the world to believe me. Because here's the thing... The truth is truth. It doesn't change. No matter what. And you and I, we both know the truth.

I hate you. I will always hate you. I am suppose to forgive. But I can't. And I don't want too. I want you to die a slow painful death. But I'd settle for a long miserable life.

You are a monster. You know it. And I know it. And no matter what the world chooses to believe, we know the truth. You can't out run it.

The world is better off without you in it. It's people like you ... you are the reason why people don't report more incidents of sexual assault and rape.

You are scum, a piece of shit. You will never amount to thing because you are a loser who has to fuck passed out girls at parties in order to... what? Get some? Feel manly? What?

Yes, Billy. You fucked up my life and relationships (past and present). But you weren't thinking of that were you? Not when you had your dick inside a passed out girl.

I pray that your daughter never ever has to live through what you have put me through. I pray she never knows the pain. And never has the fucked up life that you have given me.

What would you do, Billy Ray, if someone did this to your daughter?

My life is forever changed because of you. And not in a good way. I pray I can teach my daughters so be more vigilant and never to trust a soul. And I pray your daughter never knows this pain.